


One Last Time

by shyfoxes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Astral Plane, Coran - Freeform, Dreams, Dreamscapes, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Pidge - Freeform, The Astral Plane, alternate universes/realities, dreamscape, hinted mutual feelings, hints at PTSD, hints at depressions, hunk - Freeform, keith - Freeform, kind of established relationship, lance - Freeform, low-key pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyfoxes/pseuds/shyfoxes
Summary: “I think— I have to go,” Shiro started. “I’ve loved every second of being here… but I need to go back.”“I have to return to you. Wait for me. Okay?” Shiro said.Or, Shiro becomes stuck in a dream world where he never went to Kerberos, and a lot of familiar people are still orbiting in and out of his life. Black and a certain someone are trying to wake him up, but Shiro finds himself refusing. He knows he should leave, but it’s so hard when he’s finally found a place he can be happy and relax.





	One Last Time

 

 

Shiro’s head was aching when he finally stirred. A constant throbbing pain was knocking behind his eyes, even making his teeth ache. He groaned, trying to sit up on an elbow. Light from the curtains spilled in, briefly blinding him.

“Finally decided to get up, I see,” a voice said.

Shiro cracked his eyes open, blinking to adjust as they settled on the figure next to him. Allura smiled, eyes crinkling as she looked up at him from where she was still buried in a pillow: his pillow. Shiro smiled back, brushing aside her dark brown hair behind her ears. He felt a strange sense of surprise welling up inside of him at seeing her, feeling her. For reasons he didn't understand his fingers froze, but as quickly as it came the moment of uncertainty passed and a new thought occupied his mind.

Shouldn't she be at work? He bent and kissed her just the same.

“That good of a dream?” Allura teased.

Shiro opened his mouth to answer, but not before the ache in his head intensified, throbbing loudly until he had to rest his face against her bare shoulder. He winced, digging the heel of his palm into his eyes and tried to breathe through it. Allura’s hand caressed his cheek, murmuring his name soothingly. She stroked at the back of his head, shushing him until the headache finally relented and he was able to relax.

When Shiro could open his eyes again, their cat was watching him at the foot of the bed, dark golden eyes lidded but intense. He beckoned to her, but was ignored.

“She’s mad at me,” Shiro joked. “Did I sleep in too long?”

The cat flicked her tail as Allura laughed. Allura sat up, pulling Shiro up with her. Shiro Let his body go slack, grinning slyly when she braced herself against his chest with her hand and chuckling as he nearly forced them both to topple back into the mattress. She managed to hoist him back up, fixing him with a peeved expression. It melted in no time as she broke into a grin.

“Get up, you lazy bum,” Allura demanded. “You promised me a home-cooked breakfast for once.”

Shiro kissed her hand, eyes naturally drawn to the gold band on her finger. He kissed that, too. Soon after, he let Allura drag him from the bed, the two of them tumbling out of the room like teenagers sneaking out on a date.

 

Nevertheless, their cat hadn’t moved, her tail flickering back and forth.

 

-

 

Shiro had wondered when everything had simply become routine. He had a vague idea that before, he was just doing whatever he had to to get through the day. It was almost startling to have a routine each day. But now, he could almost log everything down by the minute. In the mornings, he and Allura would get up, curled under their sheets and share a long kiss. Allura would pull him back each time he tried to climb out of bed, her grip on his wrist surprisingly strong. Only after narrowly being able to steal himself away did they finally get up, going through the motions of dressing and trying to look less tired than they were. Shiro fed Black, then they walked to Coran’s “Out of This World Diner”.

 

There, they’d pretend to consider ordering something different only to tell Coran’s apprentice chef, Hunk, to make their usual. From over at their usual booth at the window, Matt and Katie would look up from their latest pet project—an alien chatter radio in the works—and wave to Allura and Shiro. All while Hunk’s custom made peanut butter pancakes remained partially eaten next to them. Near a quarter to eight, Hunk would lay down two plates, one for Lance, a preschool teacher, and Keith, a local mechanic. Hunk would throw a dish towel over his shoulder and brace himself against the counter, muttering, “Well, get ready everyone.”

 

Lance and Keith could be heard a block away, speed walking, then running towards the diner entrance. The bell above the door would slam against the glass as both men fought to get in through the door at the same time (each claiming they had gotten there first). After eating, Shiro would drop Allura off at her gym before heading to the cat shelter he worked at. He would pet the cats, feed them, try to find them new homes, then wait for Allura to come pick him up so they could go home together.

 

Repeat.

Shiro knew that some people couldn’t live on repetition. It could get boring. But for Shiro, that could never be the case. He took comfort in it. Being able to wake up next to the person he loved the most, chatting with the usual people, getting to spend time with the cats - it was more than Shiro could hope for.

After the accident, one Shiro was surprised he could barely remember, he had been in a bad place. It was like he had been surrounded by demons: their golden eyes constantly boring into him, taunting him. The stress and the agony he had gone through, the nightmares that had plagued him, had all seemed so real in his delirium. There were times when he had been pushed to his limits, body burning with the urge to survive. Even now it was as if Shiro could feel the claws of those demons in his dreams digging into the stump of his arm.

In the beginning, Shiro knew Allura had had to endure his nightmares with him. There were times when he would thrash in his sleep, begging and crying for them to release him. The phantom pain would shoot up his arm, livid and almost real. He couldn’t remember how his arm had been lost to him, how he had wound up this way. But the dreams, the demons, they had been the only things that stuck around.

Oddly enough, Shiro couldn’t remember when he had even met Allura.

When had she become such a big, integral part of his life? It bothered Shiro from time to time, but when he looked over his shoulder, his eyes tracing the long arch of her neck, the way her simple braid, fell down her back, and how her smile curved so sweetly for him, Shiro couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He had an inkling that they had not met under the best circumstances, but he also had no doubt that he had been intrigued and then smitten not long after. What he felt was real: full and bright in the haven of his chest.

He hoped that they could always be like this.

-

 

“Black,” Shiro cooed, beckoning to the cat with his hands. “Come here, kitty.”

 

Black didn’t move from her spot on top of the kotatsu. She only eyed him with her legs tucked under her big body. She was huge for a cat, Shiro was starting to notice. She might have even been bigger than a normal Maine coon.

 

It was funny that he didn’t really even remember when she came to live with them either. It felt like she had just suddenly shown up one day and Shiro had thought nothing of it. Or maybe it was because Black had walked around the apartment as if she’d belonged there all along, always a few steps behind Shiro. Though he recalled her being much more affectionate than this. Shiro couldn’t imagine what could have happened to have made her so standoffish now.

 

He leaned back into his chair, frowning. Usually, beckoning Black in the past had at least garnered him a cute meow. But Black didn’t want to do more than just stare at him. At times, Shiro got the vague impression that the cat was _tired_ . Which confused Shiro since, she was a _cat_ , surely she was sleeping for most of the day? Whenever he looked at Black these days, it always seemed as if she was watching him, discerning something.

 

“Black,” Shiro tried again. “What’s wrong?”

 

She swished her tail, signaling her agitation. Her golden eyes narrowed just a little, boring into him as if there was something he was supposed to understand. Her tail flicked again, a little more wildly this time.

 

“I can’t know if you don’t give me a hint,” Shiro teased. “You know I’m not a mind reader.”

 

Black tilted her head, blinking slowly. She seemed to be considering jumping into his lap from where she sat, but decided against it in the end. She curled her nose into the end of her tail and shut her eyes.

 

“Am I missing something?” Shiro quietly asked Black, unsurprised that he received no answer.

  


-

 

“...iro.”

 

Why did his chest feel so heavy? Why couldn’t he move? The more he struggled, the heavier his body felt. He couldn’t feel his arm. Oh god, where was he his arm. He clenched his other fist, his nails digging into his palm. He could hear himself swallowing and nothing more. Where was everything else?

 

“Shi - _ro_.”

 

Where was _he_?

 

He couldn’t open his eyes. His eyelids felt glued shut, the lashes burned to his skin. His breath picked up in his chest, beating at his throat and the back of his teeth. He gulped down air, struggling against nothing.

 

“ _Shiro!”_

 

Shiro shuddered a breath out. It rattled out of him, his body almost deflating. The bonds didn’t let up, but the pressure on his chest had at least. Something tugged at him, touched the inside of his one remaining palm. Something like fingers moved over the back of his hand, over the thing on his wrist. The barest feeling of something else hovered over Shiro, bending towards him. The tickle of a whisper maybe, touched his ear then nothing more. Even if he hadn’t known what the voice had said, or if it had even truly been there, his mind blared with only one thought.

 

Why did it sound like Allura?

 

-

 

Shiro woke up that morning staring at his ceiling. He had an arm thrown over his forehead. He stared at the fading blue of marker lines from the time he and Allura had gotten drunk and tried to map out constellations. Shiro found that he didn’t even recognize them. They looked nothing like the ones he learned in school.

 

He looked at the palm of his prosthetic, the smooth, unnatural color of it meant to mirror his own skin tone. Where the stump met the nerve receptors, Shiro only felt a strange disconnection.

 

A wry grin cracked onto his face before he huffed an unamused laugh into the empty room.

 

“I’ve been having  weird thoughts lately,” Shiro recited to himself. He huffed a humorless laugh.

 

Black crept up along the bed. She sat by his side, at the edge of his periphery. She laid one paw to his chest and nothing more. Shiro scratched behind her ear, comforted at least by the purr she rewarded him with. She pushed her head into his palm.

 

For once in the past few hours, Shiro felt at ease.

 

-

 

“...and then it was like, pow, pow pow!” Lance reenacted, throwing his hands around like guns.

 

He dragged his eyes over the others in the diner, a cocky grin on his face. Everyone laughed, with the exception of Keith. Shiro watched the way he was looking at Lance with all the exasperation of the world.

 

Keith furrowed his brow. “What the heck even was that?”

 

Lance’s lips curled into a self-assured grin, a hand cradled against his hip. “Laser guns,” he answered.

 

“That sounded nothing like laser guns,” Keith told him, crossing his arms.

 

“How would you know, Mullet?” Lance shot back, leaning on the counter. His lip jutted out, narrowing his eyes in the way that meant he was getting ready to start a fight. Shiro had learned to read the signs now.

 

“No, no, Lance, Keith’s right,” Hunk piped in. He set a plate he was carrying down on the counter and stepped away. Hunk bent at the knees and extended his arms, firing away. “It’s like PCHREW PCHREW.”

 

“Nooo, that sounds like fireworks,” Lance cut in.

  


“Both of you are wrong. It’s like p-chew, p-chew,” Katie said from the other end of the counter.

 

The others devolved into an argument, each one holding a hand over the other’s face as they tried to assert that they clearly had the noises down properly. Keith looked between the three of them, a grumpy expression on his face, but Shiro had a feeling it masked a shy desire to join in. He hadn’t even known Keith that long, but the thought had come so suddenly that he was a little unsure. Beside him, Allura was giggling from behind her hand. She elbowed him with a mischievous smile on her face.

 

“Why don’t you show them how it’s really done?” Allura teased. “Blam, blam, blam.”

 

Shiro opened his mouth to admonish her when a ear-piercing ring shot through Shiro’s head. He crumpled, buried his face against her shoulder, folding in on himself to try and abate the pain. He could faintly hear the voices of the others calling his name. He felt a hand to the base of his neck, and the others touching his back faintly.

 

“Shiro?” Keith called. “You okay?”

 

Allura rubbed at the edge of his jaw with her thumb, whispering reassuringly to him. He tried to nod, even as his temple throbbed sorely. Hunk made a distressed noise, one that always meant his anxiety was rising. Shiro reached back blindly hoping to catch Hunk by his wrist before he started gnawing on his nails.

  


“Dude, take it easy, okay?” Lance said, a clear note of worry in his tone despite the way he tried to phrase it like a tease.

 

He could almost imagine Lance swallowing quietly as his brow creased in worry. Pidge— _Pidge?_ —Katie hadn’t said anything, but Shiro could hear Matt’s faint murmuring. Allura spread her fingers against the back of his head, cradling it.

 

“I’m okay, guys,” Shiro reassured. He lifted his head up from Allura’s shoulder. She searched his eyes, a pensive look on her face that always worried Shiro because it meant she was working more than she was sleeping. Even after ten thousand years of slumber, Allura still found it hard to sleep.  Shiro furrowed his brows, feeling a brief wave of nausea hit him.

 

“Sorry guys, I’m going to take him home, okay?” Allura told the group.

 

She grabbed Shiro by his upper arm and steadied him against her side. She laid a hand on his hip and against his chest, looking more worried than he wanted her to be. Shiro hesitated an embarrassed smile. He turned towards the others to see Coran laying a hand on each of their heads, a quick twitch of his mustache and a quiet word or two that made them look marginally more relaxed. He caught Coran’s wink over his shoulder.

 

“Make sure you rest up, Shiro,” Katie said. “Breakfast’s no good without you.”

 

“Yeah, man, we’re like a team, you know?” Hunk added. “And you’re like the uhhh—”

 

“Head?” Keith supplied. “You know, like the leader?”

 

“Why does Shiro get to be the leader?” Lance whined. “ Not that you wouldn’t make a good leader. You really know how to bring people together.”

 

Shiro chuckled, a flash of warmth settling in him. He had forgotten how light they could make him with their sincerity and encouragement. Circumstances aside, they always found a pretty good way of coming together when it was needed. Shiro admired that about them. He looked down to Allura who offered him a comforting smile. Shiro instantly felt humbled and at ease. She always had that effect on him, no matter how out of his element he felt. He motioned with his head and they both hobbled out of the diner together.

 

“They’re right, you know,” Allura added. “You’d be a good leader. You’re a natural and people always want to follow you.”

 

“Even you?” Shiro joked. “I’m kidding, I like you standing beside me more.”

 

Allura hummed. “Even if it were some place dangerous, I’d go and bring you back. It’s lonely standing by yourself,” Allura admitted. “You know better than to go where I can’t follow, Takashi.”

 

Shiro felt a swell of affection flood through him. A part of him, at the back of his head, throbbed with the weight of her words. But after the unease of the last few days, her steady hands and words were enough to make Shiro feel at peace for a little while yet..

 

-

 

_Shiro! Shiro, can you hear me?_

 

The voice was calling to him again. Whoever this thing was, mimicking Allura’s voice so thoroughly, it was beginning to grate on Shiro’s nerves. He was tired, couldn’t it leave him be? Where he laid was so comfortable, he didn’t want to get up. He just wanted to lay here and feel safe.

 

_Shiro, wake up! You cannot stay here! We need you back!_

 

Back where? He was where he was supposed to be. Shiro buried his face into the cradle of his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he could relax enough to enjoy sleep. Once, a long time ago, he had enjoyed the way his body had molded against his bed, the flickering of posters and photos on his wall as his standing fan oscillated around his room. The dimness of Christmas lights his mother had strewn up across his shelves recreating stars because she’d known he’d dreamt of traveling to other worlds. Shiro couldn’t imagine doing that now. Everything he wanted had been on Earth all along.

 

_Takashi!_

 

-

Shiro woke up to Black laying on his chest, her golden eyes bright in the dim light of his room. Her long legs were curled up under her large body making her seem far smaller than she really was. She watched him with a certain type of expectancy that made Shiro unsure if she would nuzzle or bite him. The sun was rising in the distance, only just barely able to peek through against the curtains of his and Allura’s room. He reached up to pet her, but Black made a strange growling noise at the back of her throat and slanted her head at him.

 

A flash of color bloomed behind Shiro’s eyes, Black’s growl almost seeming to reverberate inside his head. Shiro blinked rapidly and let his hand fall back against the bed. She reached out a paw to touch his chin.

 

“Something’s not right with me, Black,” he confessed.

 

Shiro pressed the inside of his wrist against his forehead. Maybe if he pushed hard enough all his runaway thoughts would go back down where they belonged. They rattled around in his head just the same: overlapping and confusing. Shiro didn’t know where one thought began and where the other ended, the truth of each hard to discern.

 

Shiro felt like his body was not his own. He was lying parallel to himself, just out of reach of what might as well have been a haphazard outline of his body. It floated there refusing to realign. Shiro squeezed his eyes shut and swept his fingers through Black’s silky fur. She purred under his touch, loud and reassuring. She stretched, unsheathed her claw just a tip to poke at him before retracting them. Shiro exhaled, looking to the cat with a tired look of gratitude.

 

“Thanks for that,” Shiro muttered.

 

From there, it was not hard to see how things didn’t line up as they used to. At times, it was always like Shiro was two inches off from his mark. When he was trying to put things on tables, when he was reaching to take things, walking somewhere, it reminded him of the way his body had felt disconnected that morning.

 

Allura shot him worried looks as the week went by, always on the verge of confronting him before she thought better. Shiro both hated and appreciated it. At the periphery of his vision these days, all he could see was a shock of change when she turned. The dark brown of her hair would spark white, blazing in a way that Shiro knew he couldn’t be imagining. The tips of Coran’s ears were also becoming pointed, a wrinkle of faint blue under his eyes. Some mornings, if Shiro wasn’t paying attention, the world seemed to flicker. If Hunk, Lance, Pidge, and Keith were gathered together, Shiro might even think he saw them in strange armor before the vision of their everyday clothes came back.

 

The only thing that had stayed the same was Black. She still felt as though she was too big for her body, the size of her shadow exceeding the span of the walls. Regardless, she was a welcome presence for Shiro, curling up under his chin and under his arms, offering the comfort he desperately sought. He could feel like himself again when he petted her, grounded and made real. She looked at him with one golden eye, blinking it slowly, and offering a reassuring echoing growl before dozing off. Shiro followed suit.

 

-

 

Shiro willed his eyes open. With his body begging to let go, to drift away, it had been difficult. He had panicked a few times, unsure of where his consciousness lied, flitting around in subspace as Shiro clawed himself into wakefulness in the dream. He sat up, taking in the empty space around him. It reminded him of the places his mother had taken him as a child, where they had walked along the clear water reflecting the sky. Here, it seemed to be a permanent night. Stars, thousands of them, smattered across like dispersed clouds shot out overhead. It was quiet, save for Shiro’s breathing. The water-like floor beneath him didn’t even move. He waited.

 

Shiro didn’t know how much time had passed, but nothing happened for what he assumed was a long time. Wherever he was in this dream, time might not even have applied. He wondered how his mind could have even dreamt up such an empty place. The stars, the galaxies, he understood. But the sheer emptiness he did not. Introverted as he may be, Shiro did not enjoy loneliness.

 

“Shiro?”

 

A hand extended from Shiro’s periphery. He turned towards it, following the slender fingers to the cuffed wrist and up the arm. Shiro’s whole body gravitated towards the other person, rising up on his knees as he looked at them.

 

“Allura?” Shiro murmured.

 

She smiled, the faintest bit of dampness at the corners of her eyes. Her long - white? -  hair was swept back messily as if she hadn’t taken much care in dealing with it. She nodded, pulling her lips inwards a moment as she tried to say something to him. It was so unlike her to be unable to speak her mind. Shiro took her hand and rose as she pulled him up to his feet. She let go of his hand and intertwined her own before her. She stood close, looking up at him as if he would disappear if she didn't watch him.

 

“You have finally managed to wake up,” Allura said, faintly. “I was afraid I would not be able to reach you.”

 

“What do you mean? Isn’t this a dream? You’re not exactly awake in a dream,” Shiro stated, a humorless chuckle spilling out. “This is the first time I’ve dreamt about someone other than myself.”

 

Allura shook her head. She looked down for a tick. Her hands worked nervously against each other, fingers pulling as she considered her words. Shiro cradled her hands between his.

 

“How much do you remember, Shiro?” Allura asked. “What has been happening with you?”

 

Shiro furrowed his brows. “Nothing, except you’re looking a little different.” She scrunched her brows in turn. “I’ve been having weird dreams like this, but when I wake up everything’s normal.”

 

“Normal?” Allura repeated.

 

“Well yeah. You, me, Black, Lance, Keith, Katie, Hunk, and Coran,” Shiro listed off. “We went to the museum you wanted to see just yesterday, remember? You bought that little mouse key charm at the gift shop.”

 

“Oh Shiro,” Allura breathed. “Oh no.”

 

She wrangled her hands from his grip and took hold of his wrists. She tugged him close, a look of alarm and sadness melting into her features. Her shoulders hunched, the beginnings of a burden settling into her form. Shiro pressed their foreheads together, assuring her it was okay. Allura sniffled and shook her head again. She didn't pull away, only curled closer to him.

 

“Shiro, no, you do not understand,” Allura began. “You’re still dreaming. None of this is real.”

 

“What?”

 

“This, all of this, the life you and, and I lead, the other Paladins, the Black Lion,” Allura continued, her voice slightly breaking, “It is not real. You have been trapped in the astral plane after the fight with Zarkon, your body and mind taken there from the magical reaction when Voltron and Zarkon clashed. I—We have been searching for you.”

 

She reached up and touched the side of his face. “But you were here all along. The Black Lion has been trying to help your mind and body repair this whole time. It just - it worked _too_ well Shiro. You became too attached to the dream.”

 

“Allura, don’t talk like that,” Shiro denied, taking her hand away from his face. She reluctantly pulled away from him. A flooding of panic swept through Shiro. The back of his head pulsating and trying to make sense of the fuzzy negatives running at high speed back there.

 

“Shiro, I’m so sorry. It’s true. That’s why I am here, to help bring you home,” Allura explained. She hesitated for a tick before she placed a hand at the junction of his neck and shoulder, touching the soft hairs of his undercut.  Her blue eyes were clear and open, a look of hope and dread intermixing within them. Shiro hated to see her like that, be the cause of it.

 

“Home,” Shiro repeated.

 

The Castle-ship, the dark expanse of space, the trillions of miles away from Earth. Not the place he had imagined, hidden away and secure in the sanctity of its dream-walls. Shiro wanted to pull away, but he couldn’t. The stars in the dreamscape began to dim, shuttering off in large patches across the sky. The world flickered, and with it, Allura did, too.

 

“We are not whole without you. I… am not content without you there beside me,” Allura told him.

 

Her body began to fade starting at the legs. Shiro pulled her close and held on tight. Panic overtook Allura’s face as she curled a hand around his neck and bumped their foreheads together again. Shiro wasn’t sure he could even actually feel her, but the gesture made a pang echo inside of him.

 

“Come home, Shiro. Black will help lead the way. But please, you must return to us!” Allura called, then she was lost to the wind.

 

The world tilted, water sloshing around Shiro as he tipped backwards right into it. He felt the rush of it and yet nothing at the same time, until he was sure he was falling straight to the bottom of it. He let himself be lulled and embraced sleep.

-

 

 

Shiro stared out into the darkness of the room. His head pounded, finally numb. He breathed out loudly trying to collect his thoughts. He held up his hands, his flesh and prosthetic arms. He flexed his fingers, turned his hands, touched the skin of the flesh hand, and the metal of the prosthetic. He couldn’t tell if the touch felt real or not, how real _anything_ was for that matter. Shiro’s thoughts warred in his head, fighting against each other, at what it could fathom. The bed at his back was soft, enveloping him at all perfect angles. The cool of the room, the moonlight spilling from the curtains, and the gentle, lulling him of the overhead fan were all too perfect. Shiro was sleeping too peacefully.

 

His fingers ached to reach out for the dream-Allura. He didn’t, too afraid that he would be breaking the fragile line that kept this dream whole.

The steady rise and fall of her shoulders, the feeling of her breathing against his human fingers forced Shiro to squeeze his eyes shut. She shifted next to him, curling closer to him as she had done every night he had been in this dream realm. Shiro had always wondered what sleeping next to Allura would be like. He wondered how much of it had been his own imagination feeding the dream. It would be so easy to reach out for her, touch the soft expanse of her cheek. Moth's wings festered at the core of his chest: agitated and nasty.

Then, another, darker thought rose up in his mind. From the foot of the bed, Black’s golden eyes were widening. He could see the slit of her eyes zeroing in on him as the thought turned itself over in his head. He could feel her pushing at the boundaries of his mind, warning him.

_What if he just stayed here? What if he just gave in to this dream, wrapped in this fake Allura’s embrace?_

He could be happy. He could finally rest. He had never asked for any of this. Not the capture, the arena, the druid-made arm, the mantle of Black Paladin. He had only wanted to dig up some space rocks, watch the glimmer of stars millions of miles away as he stood at the edge of Earth’s solar system, liked he’d always dreamt of as a child. Did he not deserve this after all he had been through?

Black’s growl, a feral, low thing resounded in the quiet of the room. The tips of her fangs glinted, eyes piercing into him. Shiro tried to set his jaw hard, even as the sickening feeling threatened to drown him in its grasp.

“Please,” Shiro begged quietly. “I just want to stay here. I’m _happy_.”

Black just looked at him, thrumming with all the barely held back memories and images of his crew, his family, scouring the universe for him, the aliens and creatures waiting for them, the Princess he had left back on the Castle-ship.

Shiro swallowed, still feeling a disgusting, sticky mass lodging at the entrance to his throat. He curled over the dream-Allura. Beneath him, her image flickered just once. Shiro could feel it.

The dream was ending.

It was never going to let him stay here, not after Black had opened his eyes. It had been a fleeting hope, a lie, that he could. He held on just the same.

Black had only been looking out for him. The longer he stayed, the more he put his mind at risk, the more everything was at risk. He could only feel her unyielding loyalty and love pouring through their bond, battling against the astral dream world. Shiro knew what he had to do.

“Let me say goodbye tomorrow,” Shiro pleaded. “I need at least that.”

Black said nothing. She crept across the bed, over the crest of Shiro and dream-Allura’s legs to settle between their bodies, and placed her head against Shiro’s chest, purring. She had agreed.

Shiro hooked his arms around Allura’s shoulders, pulling her flush against him and Black. Black stretched up to rest under his chin, a feeling of reassurance pouring from her. Shiro closed his eyes and tried to savor the fleeting selfishness.

 

-

Saying goodbyes were always easier said than done; Shiro had learned growing up. There wasn’t always time to say them, and when one said them, it wasn’t always said with the intention that a certain level of love was meant to be imbued in it. Surely there would be more hellos to balance it out. Shiro could remember his mother not being able to tell him goodbye when it’d come time for him to leave for Kerberos, she had only said take care in lieu of it. Even if this Allura wasn’t real, Shiro knew he wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t part ways with her properly. He had to do it right, and he wanted to let her know how happy he’d been, if only so briefly and deluded.

 

Shiro didn’t really know how to go about doing it.

 

Allura—dream-Allura—could sense that there was something wrong with Shiro. He wasn’t sure anymore how much of it had been his own imagination and how much of it had been the astral plane taking his desires and warping them. Shiro had no doubts that the real Allura was any less attuned to him, but the subtlety of how he clung, looking at her when he didn’t think she was watching, he was uncertain if maybe the real Allura would pick up on it.

 

She had had better things to do, despite Shiro’s own misgivings about how it affected her. (He supposed she would sit down and properly allow herself the mourn around the same time Shiro went and admitted he had his own problems, and didn’t band them over with a emotional ducktape). Allura was a war general and the only thing really keeping the whole team running smoothly. He could see why she had always put everything above herself—Shiro still wished she’d think of herself more.

 

For every quizzical look Allura gave to Shiro, he could only smile in return. He knew he had to speak to her, but the selfish part of him still wanted to do nothing more than take her by the hands and stay. He supposed that’s what happened when one fell head over heels for something, they kind of got too emotional to really think straight sometimes. Shiro looked back down at Black in his lap instead. She looked up at him through her half-open eyes, the burning gold of her irises promising comfort. He scratched under her ear. Shiro thought he knew what he should do.

 

Shiro reached over head and clicked the stereo on. The speakers around the living room blipped on, the sound of static humming before going quiet. Allura looked over at him from over her laptop, a fine brow tilted in question. Shiro grinned, hesitant and sad at first, before he let the moment allow himself to feel everything he wanted to. Shiro gently placed Black on the couch cushions, receiving a soft meow in return. It was almost funny how delicate it sounded when he knew how much more powerful Black’s real meows were.  

 

“Takashi?” Allura said, eyes following him as he stood up. Shiro hummed, fiddled with the radio, and let the beginnings of Whitney Houston vocalizations blast out. Allura looked at him, startled, before a large grin stretched across her face. Shiro held his hand out, giving her a coy look as Allura pretended to think about it. She dropped her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They joined both hands. _I remember the way that we touched I wish I didn't like it so much,_ Whitney sang. With all the strength Shiro knew to be more like the real Allura, the dream-Allura pulled Shiro close to her, chests flush together.

 

She threw her head back and yelled out the chorus, laughing around the words as Shiro shook his head and spun her around. Their legs tangled, fumbling as they danced, silly and uncaring. They moved their arms back and forth, pretending to reenact a waltz before falling into a silly hip shimmy. They floundered around as they tried to avoid the low coffee table and crashing into Black on the couch. When Shiro bent to kiss Allura, she ducked, grabbing him around his chest, laughing, and then screeching when he rocked them, threatening to collide them into Black.

 

Allura planted her feet to the ground and startled him when she lifted him off the ground, his feet dangling, and threw him down the couch with a triumphant grin. Shiro only barely managed to brace himself as she threw herself down over him, kissing over the expanse of his nose and cheeks, a mess of limbs and hair. _I get so emotional, baby every time I think of you,_ Whitney sounded off. Shiro pulled Allura against him, trapped her arms between their bodies and held on tight.

 

She looked up at him from the bundle of her long, curling hair, locks parting as she tried to peek through at him, and admitted defeat.

 

Shiro kissed her nose. “Hey,” he said as he loosened his grip around her, allowing her to sit up over his lap. Allura brushed her hair from her face. “There’s something I really wanna tell you. It’ll sound kind of… weird, but humor me?”

 

Allura hummed, patting over the _NASA_ insignia on his shirt. He caught her hand then, and began to sit up. Dream-Allura slid back, letting him keep holding her hand as he turned to face her on the couch. Black mewed on the other couch, a quiet call of support. Shiro exhaled and steeled himself.

 

Shiro ran his thumb over Allura’s knuckles. He looked at the golden band around her finger, knew that there was a little mole on the inside of her wrist. He swallowed heavily, wishing he could take the words down with it, and looked up at Allura.

 

“I think— I have to go,” Shiro started. “I’ve loved every second of being here… but I need to go back.”

Allura furrowed her brows. She tightly held onto his hand, refusing to let go. Shiro didn’t want her to. He flicked his thumb against her ring, hoping it would give him strength. Before she could protest, Shiro brushed aside her hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her hair gently. He planted a kiss to her temple, the tip of her nose, and the bow of her lips. Then lastly, Shiro pressed their foreheads together, trying to commit this image, this feeling to memory.

If nothing else, he would take this with him.

“I have to return to you. Wait for me. Okay?” Shiro said.

Allura’s eyes widened, blue and uncertain and so incredibly scared. A war of emotions flashed across her face, moving light years before Shiro’s eyes. Finally, everything settled on her face. A tear slipped down Allura’s cheek. She nodded despite herself, reaching over to take his other hand in her own. She kissed his knuckles and curled into him.

“Don’t take too long,” was all Allura said.

Shiro watched the way her lips mouthed his name, the feeling of her under his hands falling away into nothingness. The dream dissolved, falling through his fingers until he couldn’t even grasp back.

Behind him, he could feel Black’s gentle purring. It bubbled up inside Shiro’s chest, beckoning him back into the welcoming embrace of her cockpit. Shiro wiped at his eyes once with his sleeve, stood, and walked towards his lion.

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO HERE'S MY SECOND PIECE FOR APHELION IM SO HAPPY I CAN POST IT.


End file.
